


Yet He Stays

by butyoumight



Series: Stay Wrecked and Jealous [1]
Category: Kamen Rider Gaim
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, kureshimapires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 18:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butyoumight/pseuds/butyoumight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Lost in thought?" "You have that effect on me."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yet He Stays

**Author's Note:**

> First part in the new and exciteing Stay Wrecked and Jealous universe, also known as the Kureshimapire AU. In which there are no Beat Riders or Inves or Armored Riders. Just a couple of vampire brothers (the kind that are born, not the kind that are made) and their shared harem of devoted servants and blood dolls.

To say the least, Micchi was surprised to find Kouta kneeling at the foot of his bed when he entered his room. 

He closed the door behind himself- it wouldn't do for anyone to listen in on the conversation he was sure was on it’s way.

"Kouta?" He said in a softly imploring tone, trying to appeal to his favorite's reasonable side. Kouta just grinned at him, one hand idly fiddling with the collar around his neck.

"How was your day?" Kouta asked, prompt and bright and absolutely earnest. He was so sweet, even when he knew he had the potential to be getting in trouble for whatever it was he was scheming tonight.

"Fine." Micchi responded shortly, loosening his school tie and then shrugging out of his uniform coat. Kouta slipped off the bed and moved closer to take the jacket from him, meeting his eyes briefly.

Even after having him for nearly a year, Micchi still wasn't sure he was used to the complete lack of shame Kouta had, the complete lack of proper obedience... Though that wasn't entirely accurate. Kouta was perfectly obedient, after all. He did as he was asked, and often did things that no one asked him to do but he figured they needed doing so he did them anyway. It wasn't that he was defiant, it was that he was... free. It was the free will that surprised Micchi every time he met Kouta's eyes. The other boys and girls around the estate didn't have that same spark of consciousness and coherence in the depths of their eyes. Some of them were very good at pretending, some of them were perfectly individual and unique and special… But they simply _couldn't_ be entirely autonomous, it had been all but conditioned out of them after weeks, months, years for some of them, in constant thrall to the vampires that owned them.

Kouta was different. Something about the very chemical or physical makeup of his mind made him completely immune to their glamours and their compulsion techniques. Not just resistant, though that happened occasionally too (Micchi's brother's.... Lover? Partner? Boyfriend? Pet? Project? Toy? Well, there wasn't really a single word or concept for everything Ryouma represented to Takatora, was there? But he was a good example). 

No, Kouta was _completely_ impossible to sway, in a metaphysical or psychic sense anyway.

Micchi hadn't even known that was possible, when he first found Kouta, when he first brought Kouta into their home and invited him to stay, intending to claim him as his own- a birthday present to himself. Takatora had argued in favor of simply draining him when they found out, noting, insisting rather, that a free human who knew too much was an incredible liability. But Micchi had successfully argued for Kouta's life, but with certain restrictions. Unlike most of the rest of the... slaves (Micchi didn't really _like_ using the word but he knew it was technically accurate), Kouta wasn't allowed to leave the grounds of the estate. 

Ever.

It was too risky, Takatora insisted, if he was playing them all for fools...

Micchi shook his head to clear it of these reminiscences, and found himself perched on the edge of his bed, shirtless and shoeless with his belt unbuckled and Kouta kneeling in front of him with Micchi's pyjamas folded in his arms. 

Kouta smiled again. "Lost in thought?"

Micchi reached to cup Kouta's chin, then stroke his cheek. "You have that effect on me."

Kouta laughed, and held up the pyjamas. Micchi smiled down at him, then stood to finish changing. Kouta resumed his seat on the foot of the bed, though this time with his legs crossed under himself instead of kneeling. 

"Kouta." He echoed himself earlier, finding his thought once more among the rabble. "I had sent word that I would have Kaito tonight."

"I know." Kouta responded brightly, and Micchi knew exactly what was coming next even before Kouta elaborated. "But I didn't think that would be prudent. Your brother fed from Kaito only yesterday, he hasn't had a chance to recover." 

"Kouta." Micchi insisted softly, moving back to the bed once more and sitting beside his boy, who for his part leaned over to rest his head briefly on Micchi's shoulder. "You know that's not your decision to make."

"I think it is. I have to look out for them, they don't know to look after themselves. Anyway, I think you want me to, otherwise why would you keep me?"

"Because you confound and intrigue and interest me.” Micchi responded promptly, then paused and with a grin added, “And you annoy my brother." Kouta laughed. 

Micchi continued, lifting one hand to stroke Kouta’s hair as he spoke. "And so you decided all on your own that because my brother drank from Kaito yesterday, that it wouldn't do for me to tonight, and instead of picking another of your comrades..." He looked at him, and Kouta grinned again. 

Micchi had no choice, not when confronted with that smile. With a little sigh, he slipped the chain from around his own neck. Kouta met his eye, judging his mood, and obediently let his head fall forward, letting Micchi unlock his collar. He carefully took it from around Kouta’s throat, setting it aside.

They lie down then, side by side, but with Micchi’s head on Kouta’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. 

Too human. Maybe that was the problem. Kouta wasn’t just human, he was too human, pure human. Just _pure_. 

Micchi draped his fingers across Kouta’s throat, tracing the myriad of marks and scars there. “I feed from you too much.” He whispered against Kouta’s chest. His other hand found one of Kouta’s wrists, and he knew there were scars there too, hidden by wide ornamental shackles. They unlocked with the same key as his collar. They all matched- the price Kouta paid, the mark he wore for being free of their mental influence.

Still, he chose to stay, day after day. The cuffs and the collar were not completely impenetrable, and he was resourceful, he could surely find a way to pick the locks or break them off. But he didn’t. He stayed.

“I would argue that point.” Kouta responded softly, his hand on Micchi’s back, right between his shoulder blades. “Your brother feeds from Ryou-san nightly.”

“And how would you know that?” Micchi laughed. 

“Ryou-san has told me so.” Kouta said this casually, as if the idea that Ryouma had anything to say about his relationship with Takatora, especially to the one other non-vampiric free mind in the entire estate, was not shocking at all. 

“Hm.” Micchi huffed a bit, and Kouta took his hand in both of his, lifting it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. 

“Don’t mope, please. I was trying to make you feel better. I’m not in danger of dropping dead or anything.” He tugged on Micchi’s arm then. “Come on. I thought you were hungry.”

“I’m beginning to wonder if you’re not addicted to the feeding, my Kouta.”

Kouta grinned, that same wide toothy smile that Micchi couldn’t deny. “Would it matter, if I was?”

“No.” Micchi admitted, shifting up the bed slightly and nuzzling against Kouta’s throat. Kouta let his head fall back and to the side, presenting his carotid artery in such a practiced move that he might as well be one of the compelled ones.

But he definitely wasn’t, Micchi knew that by the special tone Kouta’s voice took, whimper-whispering his devotion as Micchi’s fangs slipped beneath his skin and tore open yet another bloody mark.


End file.
